


divergence | bkdk

by pumpk7m



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Divergent Fusion, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual smut maybe?, Fluff and Angst, I haven't decided yet, Insomniac Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku is a Little Shit, Minor Character Death, Multi, Mutual Pining, hoo boy there's trauma, todoroki has daddy issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28776816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpk7m/pseuds/pumpk7m
Summary: Katsuki's always had to fade into the background. He wasn't important, they told him. He didn't matter.When he finally escapes his old life and begins anew, he realizes that freedom doesn't always mean selfishness. It means protecting the ones you love, too.Not that he loves anyone. That shit was for losers.
Relationships: Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, Kirishima Eijirou/Todoroki Shouto
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. not selfless

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic on here, so it means a lot that you're reading this! please enjoy.

Katsuki  _ hated  _ Abnegation.

How had his parents’ genes combined to form him, he had no idea. He was not selfless, not amicable, not quiet, not anything even remotely close to the principles of his faction.

Today, Katsuki would take the aptitude test. The test that would inform him of the faction he was most suited for. Tomorrow, he would choose to either leave his family and the stupid Abnegation morals he was forced to live by, or stay in the shithole of a faction he’d been born into. 

Katsuki snorted, shifting in the ugly, puke-colored bus seat. Toru, on his left, gave him a disapproving look. The Abnegation were supposed to disappear into the crowd, mere whispers, illusions. Toru, with her plain looks and quiet demeanor, exceeded at it. Katsuki never had much luck. His blonde hair was unruly and stuck up in spikes. To his mother’s dismay, no amount of gel or hair product could fix it, and the Abnegation weren’t even supposed to use hair care tools. Katsuki’s golden locks grew quickly, too, and by the time the window for his haircut came, it was hanging down his neck in a shaggy mane. His father had suggested he get a buzz cut. Katsuki had flipped him off and was forced to partake in 75 hours of community service with his mother.

Aside from his hair, the grey clothes he wore always ended up rumpled and messy by the end of the day, even if he sat around doing nothing. It was as if a curse of  _ non-normalness  _ followed Katsuki around, forcing his appearance to deviate from what his faction and his family deemed appropriate. 

Most of his classmates expected him to transfer to Dauntless tomorrow. Katsuki wanted to; he did. 

But when his mother had taken him to see an Amity counselor, his ideas of a life of danger and delight with the reckless, brash Dauntless were turned on their heads. 

“It would be best for Katsuki to tame his anger,” she’d said. “His temper will make it hard for him to keep a suitable job and support a family. He may even end up factionless. The best choice for him would be either Abnegation, or may I suggest Amity? We have measures and several professionals that can help him.”

Katsuki bristled at this--he didn’t need  _ help,  _ he was perfectly normal! Okay, maybe he wasn’t normal. At all. But his mother placed a hand on his head, a firm reminder that the Abnegation did not shout, or curse, or tell Amity counselors to fuck themselves.

Toru tapped him on the shoulder. The bus had come to a screeching halt in front of the highschool. The two of them stood up, waiting for the other passengers to exit first, as they did every morning. They left once the bus emptied. 

“Are you nervous?” Toru asked, tilting her head demurely, hands clasped in the folds of her ankle-length pewter skirt. Katsuki wanted to tell her to fuck off, that he was fine, but a group of Erudite boys passed the as they came close to the front doors of the school, and he kept his lips pursed. After a moment of doing the shitty breathing exercises the Amity woman recommended, he shook his head. 

He and Toru parted ways after Katsuki closed his locker on his meager possessions. Just school supplies and textbooks. He envied the way the other factions covered the insides with stickers, or pictures, or magnets. Toru was the closest thing he had to a friend. She’d started to stick around him only because her dad forced her to keep him company, as an act of “goodwill” and “kind-heartedness” or some sappy shit like that, but eventually, she stuck with him on her own. That didn’t stop her from getting annoyed when he lost control, though.

The factions--Abnegation, Candor, Erudite, Dauntless, and Amity--were essentially separate groups, separate families, of people that had their own unique ideals, under one society. Each one blamed a certain flaw for the downfall and unrest of the world, and so they split up to form the perfect community. 

Amity blamed conflict. The Amity way of life was full of fun and smiles and laughter. Everyone was kind; everyone treated each other that way. 

Dauntless blamed cowardice. They protected society, using wits and bypassing ordinary fears. In Katsuki’s opinion, the Dauntless had the most exciting life out of everyone.

Erudite blamed ignorance. Knowledge was valued above all, among the Erudite, and most became successful scientists, doctors, and teachers. Katsuki’s homeroom teacher was Erudite.

Candor blamed dishonesty. Everyone in that faction was expected to tell the truth, all the time. They produced fair court martials and justices. 

And finally, Abnegation blamed selfishness. All political leaders, in order to be sound, were Abnegation. Katsuki hated having to be selfless. It was as if he didn’t matter--no, he truly, really, _ did not matter. _ That was the way it was done. That was the way it was supposed to be. 

_ Faction before blood.  _

If you didn’t have a faction, you didn’t have a purpose. Those people were called the Factionless. To be Factionless was the greatest crime one could ever commit. They were not wanted, and they performed the jobs that no one wanted- trash collection, cleaning the streets, driving the buses that roamed around the city. 

The fear of being factionless was the only thing keeping Katsuki in line. Otherwise, the school would’ve been set on fire long ago, his home in shambles, and the bullies that poked fun at him lying dead on the side of the road. 

_ Breathe in,  _ Katsuki thought as he felt his fingers tense.  _ One...two...three...four… _

When the time to take his aptitude test came, Katsuki felt jittery. He only stopped bouncing his leg against the table his group shared because one of the Candor girls, who was having a debate in the corner with her friends, shot him a look that was a mixture of annoyance and disgust, her black ponytail swinging as she stared at him.

The names of two Amity were called, then two Erudite. The Abnegation administrator went through the list, calling out in a voice that held no authority whatsoever. “Bakugou, Katsuki” and “Tamaki, Amajiki” were said last. As always. Katsuki rose and tried to smooth down his wrinkled trousers, following a Erudite instructor to one of the ten rooms where the test would take place. Most of the administrators were Abnegation, but it was against the rules for someone of your own faction to tell you your test results, so Katsuki was ushered into a room with a Dauntless man, who grunted as he entered. Amajiki went with the Erudite, trembling from head to foot. Katsuki hoped he didn’t look like that. 

“Sit down,” said the man, his voice like gravel. He had stringy, long black hair that fell around his shoulders like a curtain. There was a black stud in one earlobe, and a tattoo peeked out of the top of the white scarf he wore around his neck. The bags under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks made him look centuries old, but as Katsuki got a good look at him, he realized he was quite young. 

Katsuki sat down in a chair that reminded him of a dentist’s office. The man rummaged through a cabinet, and, finding what he was looking for, closed it with a sigh and a snap. 

“You’re the last one, so let’s get this over with,” he said tiredly. He attached a wire to Katsuki’s forehead. The blonde went cross eyed trying to look at it as the man attached the other side of it to his own forehead. He handed Katsuki a cup of clear liquid, which was promptly sniffed. Discovering it had no odor, Katsuki wrinkled his nose. The Dauntless man quirked a black eyebrow. “It won’t hurt.”

“I’m not fucking scared,” Katsuki bit out, and then immediately covered his mouth with his hand.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid… _ The man simply chuckled, obviously amused. Before he could be berated, Katsuki knocked back the cup. 

  
  


The first thing he noticed was that he was standing in the testing room. The chair was nowhere to be found, however, and neither was the Dauntless man. 

“Choose,” said his voice, behind Katsuki. He turned around to look at the man, but he was alone. When his gaze fell forward once more, there was a knife and a hunk of cheese sitting on the floor.

“Choose,” the voice said again. Katsuki furrowed his brow, but picked up the knife anyway. Maybe he’d have to fight someone. Oh, that’d be fun. 

The door was opened, and in slunk a dog, brown fur rippling with muscles, lips pulled back in a snarl around sharp, shiny white teeth. Katsuki glanced at the weapon in his hand, the cheese now missing from the ground. Was he supposed to kill the dog? He didn’t want to--he’d always liked animals.

Instead, Katsuki dropped the knife, and it clattered when it hit the concrete floor. He looked at the dog, which was still advancing, eyes full of aggression, and then  _ growled  _ at it.

The dog paused, as if it was unsure what had just happened, and then raced to Katsuki’s side. He reached out a hand and scratched behind the dog’s velvety ears. He looked up as the door clicked open once again.

In came a little girl, skipping happily. She stopped and squealed as she caught sight of the dog, who, upon seeing the intruder, was snarling and yipping, wrenching its head away from Katsuki’s outstretched hand. In the blink of an eye, it launched itself towards the girl, who’s shrieks of delight became screams of terror. 

Katsuki barreled into it, his shoulder knocking the dog out of the way. They skidded on the floor before he clamped his hand onto its back to keep it from moving, the sobs of the kid dissolving as the scene changed.

He was in a train car, now, holding onto one of the metal rods that stretched from ground to ceiling. A man on his left, holding a newspaper boasting the headline “BRUTAL MURDERER STILL ON THE LOOSE”. The photo accompanying the bold print was of a woman Katsuki didn’t know, but then, something foreign unfurled in his chest. He did know her.

The man holding the paper saw him staring, and lowered it. “Do you know who this is?” he demanded, eyes narrowed.

Something bad would happen if he told the truth, Katsuki realized. When he didn’t answer, the man repeated himself, this time louder, ruder. 

Throwing Abnegation teachings, his counselor’s advice, and his mother and father’s instructions out the window, Katsuki squared his shoulders. 

“The fuck you asking me for?” he replied. 

“You know her!” spat the man. “I can see it in your eyes!”

“I don’t,” said Katsuki. “Leave me alone.”

“I can see it!”

“You can’t see shit,” Katsuki said. “Stop fucking yelling at me and get outta here.”

“You could save me!” the man was sobbing now, sobbing hysterically. “Please, you could sa-”

Katsuki punched him in the face. 

When he came to, the Dauntless man was staring at him curiously. Katsuki’s knuckles stung. 

“Hm,” the man said, and then left. Katsuki tried to follow him, but found his wrists were bound to the armrests of the chair with white plastic zip-ties.

Katsuki shook his arm, rattling the entire chair, and grit his teeth. Was that it? Was ‘hm” all he got? 

“Sorry. I needed to alter the data from your test.” 

The black-haired man came back in, wiping sweat from his brow. 

“Why?” Katsuki asked. 

“Let me explain,” he sighed. “You’re what we call  _ Divergent _ .”

“Huh?”

Katsuki watched the man rub circles on his temple, as if his very presence caused him a headache. 

“Since you grabbed the knife at the beginning of the simulation, I put you down for Dauntless. But,” he continued as he saw Katsuki open his mouth. “You used a smart, sound method of subduing the dog. That points to Erudite--if you’d stabbed it, you’d be Dauntless and I wouldn’t have to do work.”

He glared at Katsuki like he was the source of all the world’s problems.

“However, your instinct to protect the girl was a very Abnegation reaction. All I can say is that you're very  _ not  _ Amity, which is why I changed the simulation to the train scene. That ruled out Candor.”

“So…” Katsuki trailed off. The man heaved a sigh again. 

“So you’ve shown equal aptitude for Abnegation, Dauntless, and Erudite,” he said. “Which makes you Divergent.”

Katsuki’s mind was whirling. So he was...different? Did he not belong in any faction, then? 

“Bakugou,” said the man firmly. “You cannot tell  _ anyone  _ about your results. Ever.”

In a daze, he nodded his head. 

“Listen to me,” said the man, and his previously glassy, exhausted gaze fixed itself on Katsuki with a fire he hadn’t caught before. “After you leave this room, go straight home. If anyone asks about your results, tell them it went fine. Do  _ not  _ tell your parents. Are we clear?”

Katsuki nodded again, this time with purpose. “...I’m not illegal or some shit, am I?”

The man didn’t answer. He just threw the plastic cup in a waste bin and strode to the doorway, keeping one hand on the frame. He turned back. 

“On your first day,” he said. “Come find me.”

With a sweep of a black coat and a white scarf, he was gone, and Katsuki was alone once more.

_ On his first day?  _ What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Did he assume Katsuki was going to choose Dauntless? How dare he--well, he sorta wanted to, but still! 

Taking a deep breath, Katsuki exited the room and walked down the pristine hallway, avoiding eye contact with the other students. He skipped his locker, not even bothering to gather up his books, and slipped past his and Toru’s usual meeting place. A pang of guilt wracked his chest as he watched her squint into the flow of students pouring out of classrooms as the final bell rang. 

Not dragging his feet as he usually did, Katsuki made a left on the cement walkway leading out of the highschool building, towards his house. He wondered what his mother would say when he got home. If his father would sneak him peppers under the table to make him feel better after Mitsuki yelled at him for his messy attire. 

“Bakugou!” 

Bakugou cursed as he turned around, trying to mold his expression into one of indifference. Toru jogged up to him, book bag swinging and banging against her hip with every footstep.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” she asked. Katsuki could see that she was slightly hurt and raced to come up with an explanation. 

“Something about the test made me sick,” he explained, trying to lie as smoothly as he had during the examination. “The guy doin’ it told me to go home since I was feeling like shi--wasn’t feeling well.”

Toru nodded, though her face looked troubled. She fell into step beside Katsuki. “What did you get?”

“We’re not supposed to tell.”

“All the rules you bend, and you can’t even bend this one?” Toru mumbled, but he caught it.  _ Breathe in...one...two...three… _

“Hey,” Toru said as they neared the Bakugou dwelling. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure,” he replied. Toru left with a wave, bookbag swinging again as she skipped back home. Katsuki raised his fist and knocked thrice on his door. It swung open, and-- _ thank god _ \--it was his dad, who gave him a small smile and hurriedly tried to fix Katsuki’s shirt. He was just about to close the final button when Mitsuki came around the corner.

“Are your clothes ruffled up again?” she asked, voice soft but still chastising as she pulled him inside. “Katsuki, I told you to focus on keeping them nice.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“Don’t use that ungrateful tone,” she scolded. “Do you have homework?”

Katsuki shook his head, hearing Masaru shift from foot to foot, no doubt trying to come up with something to ease the tension. 

“I’ll make dinner,” he said finally. 

“No, it’s Katsuki’s day-”

“I’ll make dinner.”

Katsuki took the opportunity to retreat to his room, the only place that he could be himself in the whole house. He set his empty bag on the desk in the corner and flopped face-first onto his bed’s grey comforter. Everything in his house was either grey or white--once, he’d asked if he could paint his room black and orange, and his mother had immediately launched into a lecture about the Abnegation lifestyle.

“Katsuki!”

It was no surprise that it hadn’t taken long to get food on the table. The Abnegation ate frozen food that tasted like shit because the farms were too far away. And they were supposed to be  _ grateful  _ that they weren’t taking resources away from those who needed them. Katsuki took one more look in the mirror, closed the button that his dad hadn’t gotten to earlier, and started off down the hallway. 

“Did you hear about the student that got sick during testing?” Mitsuki was saying as he sat down in his chair. The peas on his plate looked as unappetizing as ever, but he scooped them up dutifully and shook his head. 

“What happened?” asked Masaru.

“Apparently the results had to be entered in manually because there was a problem with the test,” she explained. “They were sent home. I wonder why.”

Katsuki tuned out his parents as they conversed quietly, civilly, about their days at work. The Erudite journalists had posted more reports about Enji Todoroki, Masaru’s business partner. They worked together as political leaders. While the council was made up of representatives from each faction, Enji was particularly influential. Masaru seemed agitated as he described what the report said--that the violence and cruelty shown to his son were the reason why he left Abnegation for Dauntless last year. 

Not many people chose to leave Abnegation, but when they did, it was a big deal. Katsuki twirled his fork between his fingers, wondering if his parents would get attacked the way Enji did if he left. 

“Katsuki, how did your test go?” Masaru asked, managing a smile after Mitsuki comforted him.

“It was good,” he said after swallowing a large chunk of chicken. 

“You know where you’re going tomorrow, right?” Mitsuki asked, her smile hiding a warning look. 

“I don’t know.”

“Amity or Abnegation,” she said, firmly. “Like the counselor said, you need to get your temper under control. No one is going to want to marry you if you get fired from every job.”

“Okay,” Katsuki said quietly, trying to ignore her. He rolled a pea around on the white porcelain of his plate, and then felt something tap the side of his leg, attempting not to visibly brighten as he slipped the pepper into his pocket. 

He listened to his mother talk at him for several minutes, before she excused him from the table. Katsuki nearly ran to his room. 

Amity or Abnegation. 

Well, he wasn’t going to Amity, that was for sure. He didn’t think he could stand being surrounded by people that were so goddamn cheerful  _ all the time.  _ How was that even possible? Their faces must hurt from smiling so much. 

Abandoning his carefully constructed mask of calm, Katsuki let his features collapse into a comfortable scowl. He reached between the headboard of his bed and the wall and pulled out his favorite book, munching on the pepper and nearly crying in happiness as the delicious spice hit his tongue. 

The book in question was something he’d found in a garbage can, several years ago, before the Factionless trash collector of his street had emptied it. He wasn’t allowed to read anything with violence--heck, he didn’t even think books that contained violence were allowed anywhere--so he’d snatched it up and stuffed it in his bag. All day at school, he felt as if he was carrying a bomb. What would happen if he got caught? The risk excited him. 

Katsuki had read  _ Blood Meridian  _ more times than he could count, especially on bad days. It was a gory, terrible book, really, filled with blood and gangs and shootings and all sorts of things Abnegation would have exiled him for if they found out, but to Katsuki, it was his escape.

He’d never read any other book like it. The cover was about to fall off from how many times he’d opened it, and it was so weathered that he could barely make out the title. The pages were dog-eared and dirty, but he loved it all the same. A knock on his door made him start and he shoved the book and pepper under his bed before pulling out his home copy of  _ An Unabridged Version Of Faction History by Sorahiko Torino.  _

“Hey kiddo,” said Masaru, coming over to sit next to the blonde on his bed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” said Katsuki, building his mask again. Masaru waved a hand to let him know it was all right and he frowned once more. 

Masaru ran a hand through his chocolate-colored hair. “Tomorrow,” he began, and red eyes met brown ones- “Tomorrow, just know…”

He closed his eyes, as if he was struggling with what to say. 

“...this is your choice.”

“Remember, Katsuki, Amity or Abnegation,” Mitsuki said, giving him a satisfied smile that contained no doubt. Katsuki nodded and Masaru winced. 

He broke off from his parents to join Toru in line. The sixteen-year-olds from Abnegation spread out through the line in the Hub, alphabetically. They sat in a half-circle of chairs surrounding the raised stage. Katsuki waved goodbye to Toru and took his spot near the front. A Erudite boy with a blue headband over his head of dark hair squeezed his way in line in front of Katsuki. 

There were five basins, lined up perfectly on the stage. Each one contained something relating to each faction. Gray stones for Abnegation, water for Erudite, earth for Amity, lit coals for Dauntless, and glass for Candor.

When Katsuki stepped onto the stage, Enji would hand him a knife. Each faction rotated hosting the ceremony, and it was Abnegation’s turn. Katsuki would slice a clean line on his palm and let his blood fall over the basin that represented the faction he would live in. 

His hands curled in gray slacks, twisting nervously. Katsuki watched as names started to be called, watched them all pick their previous factions, somewhat detached. What would really happen if he left his family? Could he do it?

“Aoyama, Yuga” was called, and he declared himself Erudite after slicing his palm with a rather dramatic, sparkly flourish. The first to switch. His Dauntless friends murmured amongst themselves, while the Erudite welcomed him with open arms and (slightly smug) smiles. 

Awase, the boy next to Katsuki, shifted from foot to foot. His turn was nearing. Katsuki’s fingers, clutching fabric, were shaking now. Awase plodded to the stage and took the knife. 

“Bakugou, Katsuki,” rang Enji’s voice, much too soon for his liking. Katsuki struggled to make his feet move towards the stairs. All he wanted to do was shrivel under the many pairs of eyes following him as he moved.

He looked at his parents before starting his ascent. Mitsuki, eyes slightly narrowed, jerked her chin in a sharp nod. Masaru merely looked at him, face full of an emotion Katsuki could not name. He watched Mr. Hagakure leaned over and whispered something to his mother, who laughed quietly and flapped a hand, as if to tell him everything would be all right. Katsuki found Toru in the crowd. When their eyes met, she quickly looked to the ground, at gray-clad toes, strands of hair slipping past her shoulders and obscuring her face from view. 

“Bakugou,” said Enji again, firmly. Katsuki found he could believe the Erudite reports when he mounted the stage and realized the man’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Tongue as dry as sandpaper against the roof of his mouth, he climbed, choosing to focus instead on not falling over as he took short, unsure steps towards the basins. Each one was so large that it could fit his entire body, easily, if he curled up. 

Enji wiped the blade of the ceremonial knife with a white cloth. Katsuki watched red blossom against the fabric, petals of a crimson rose. He pressed the blade into his trembling fingers.

Katsuki gripped the knife tightly, as if he was afraid to drop it. He looked at the basins, heart thumping against his ribcage noisily. Could the crowd hear it?

Amity or Abnegation.

Katsuki thought of  _ Blood Meridian,  _ barely ever seeing light, hidden away from judgemental stares. 

Amity or Abnegation.

His earliest memories. Giving food to the Factionless. Scolded when he wanted to talk with them.

Amity or Abnegation. 

Sitting in the principal’s office, hearing his mother scream at him for punching a boy that called him a “Stiff”. 

Amity or Abnegation. 

Forced into silence as Mistuki debated making him wear colored contacts, because his eyes were unnatural. They drew people’s attention, she said.

Amity or Abnegation. 

_ Dauntless,  _ a tiny part of his mind whispered. 

Being trampled in a mob. 

Amity or Abnegation. 

_ Dauntless.  _

He slit his palm with the knife.

Amity or Abnegation. 

Blood dripped onto cream-colored planks.

_ Dauntless.  _

Speckles of red, like two ruby eyes.

Amity or Abnegation. 

_ Dauntless,  _ his mind protested. 

Shaking, Katsuki stretched his arm forward.

Amity or Abnegation. 

_ Dauntless.  _

Amity or Abnegation. 

_ Dauntless. _

Amity or-

_ Dauntless.  _

_ Dauntless. _

_ Dauntless. _

Dauntless. 

His blood dripped over hot coals, sizzling when it made contact. 


	2. not kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> camie is best girl

The murmurs of the crowd grew, a tidal wave of noise that Katsuki didn’t hear as he lifted his head to find his parents in the crowd. Masaru was smiling softly, but Mitsuki looked like she wanted to stand up and march to the stage. She wouldn’t, Katsuki knew. Abnegation didn’t cause trouble.

He found Toru in the crowd again. She had a “I knew it grin” on her face, a sad one, and Katsuki opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but was ushered off of the stage by Enji. He almost tripped down the stairs, but regained his footing and crossed the room to stand with the other Dauntless initiates. 

Katsuki was confused, sure, and slightly worried about his mother and father, but underneath all of that, he was _happy._ Unbelievably, undeniably, happy. He let his brows furrow and a hint of smirk grace his lips, his features resetting to their original state as he waited on the edge of the black-clad teenagers. More names were called, but Katsuki didn’t hear them. The only thing that mattered was the floaty, light feeling of elation in his chest. He flashed pearly whites menacingly at a boy with close-cropped, navy blue hair who was still waiting for his name to be called. Katsuki barked a quiet laugh when he squeaked and turned around quickly. He’d deserved it. Fucker had been staring. 

Waiting impatiently for the rest of the kids to choose their factions, Katsuki found himself examining the other initiates. He was the only one from Abnegation--he’d figured as much--but there was a Erudite girl with brown skin and curly hair, a Candor boy with yellow-blonde hair and a dopey grin, and an Amity boy with bags under his violet eyes that were so prominent he looked like a raccoon on his right. He was watching Toru’s blood dribble over the gray stones when he felt he felt someone bump his shoulder.

“Oops! Sorry, man.” 

Katsuki had immediately whipped around to scowl at the boy, but he had such an apologetic look on his face he merely grunted. His red hair was spiked up with hair gel, and his teeth were pointed at the ends. Red eyes scanned Katsuki’s face curiously.

“I’m Eijirou Kirishima. Nice to meet you,” he held out his hand, the white and black striped sleeve of Candor bunching up in the crook of his elbow. 

“Katsuki Bakugou.”

“Do you think anyone else from your faction will switch?” Eijirou asked. Katsuki shook his head.

“They’re all content with being nothing.”

“And you’re not,” the other boy finished, sharp teeth drawn up in a friendly smile. “Oh, I should introduce you--Denki!”

“Hm?” the blonde Katsuki had seen earlier, looked over. Seeing it was Kirishima, he shouldered his way through the Dauntless-born initiates until he was situated behind Katsuki. He flashed a thumbs up. “You making friends already, Ei?”

“Do you know this dipshit?” Katsuki growled. The boy Eijirou called “Denki” seemed way too happy and carefree to be Dauntless. “Shouldn’t you be in Amity with the other losers?”

At that, the raccoon-boy glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. The shorter blonde seemed unfazed by Katsuki’s brash language, however, and merely slung an arm over his shoulder. 

“Never met an Abnegation that cursed so much,” he teased. 

“Buzz off, Dunce Face.”

“Nicknames already!” he beamed. “What’s Kiri’s?”

Katsuki grumbled, not wanting to give Denki an answer, but Kirishima was looking at him expectantly. He thought for a moment.

“Shitty Hair.”

“My hair’s not that different from yours!”

“Would you three, like, quiet down? Inasa’s gonna choose his faction and I don’t wanna miss it,” a girl with caramel colored hair said behind Katsuki. She blew a bubble with her gum and he watched as it grew and grew, perfectly round until-- _pop!_ She licked it off of full lips. He’d never seen anyone blow a bubble with gum before. Heck, he’d never even _tried_ gum before. The girl saw him watching and pulled out a pack from the pocket of her jeans.

“You’ve never had gum before, right?” she asked. “Abnegation and all. Here.” She handed him a piece. 

“I don’t need your fucking pity,” Katsuki spat, and Denki laughed nervously before snatching the gum out of her hand with a guilty smile.

“Sorry. He’s learning,” he explained, and then stuffed the piece into Katsuki’s mouth. He was about to protest, but stopped as a sharp flavor hit his tongue. He made a face--it was strong, but as he chewed he found he liked it. It was refreshing, like a glass of water on a hot day. 

“What is this?” he murmured. The girl nodded knowingly.

“It’s called peppermint,” she told him. “Good, right?”

Katsuki forgot to curse at her because he was preoccupied, and nodded. 

“My name’s Camie, by the way.” 

Eijirou and Denki introduced themselves and introduced Katsuki, who wasn’t focusing on anything except for the gum. He tried to mirror Camie and blow a bubble, but he didn’t even know where to start. Eijirou laughed and he nearly punched him, but the redhead was saved as the ceremony ended and the Dauntless leaders quite literally took off. 

The older Dauntless started to run, trying to get out of the auditorium first, whooping and cheering and laughing, and Denki grabbed his arm and pulled him with the crowd.

“Do you guys always run places?” Eijirou asked Camie as they descended several flights of stairs. 

“Yep!” she replied, flying ahead of them. Katsuki found he liked running. It was exhilarating, the way his heart beat in his chest, the way the air rushed through his limbs, invigorating him. It had a sharp chill to it when he took deep breaths.

Denki, who had originally grabbed Katsuki’s arm, was having a hard time keeping up, but the girl with curly hair picked him up and placed him on her back. She was surprisingly strong. Katsuki thought all the Erudite did was shit like shitting in chairs and studying, only occasionally getting up to get books or find new information. He watched as they conversed jovially, and then Eijirou was pushing him from behind, shouting “go, go!” and his face hit cold air and they followed the crowd around a corner. 

They ran and ran, footsteps thudding on concrete, until one by one the Dauntless ahead of them formed a line, the sound of a train horn making Katsuki’s head whirl as they launched themselves into the open train cars. 

“C’mon!” shouted Camie, who had doubled back. She vaulted inside with a yell and latched her fingers around the side, giving Eijirou a hand, and pulled him up easily. Denki and the curly-haired girl hopped in next, and Katsuki could do nothing but watch, mesmerized, as the train accelerated. 

“Bakubro! Hurry!” called Eijirou. Camie motioned to him quickly, but their train car was already far ahead of the blonde. Cursing, Katsuki broke into a sprint and bent his knees, springing into the nearest carriage. His ankle hit the bottom of it with a thump, and he cursed again, almost falling face-first, but a strong hand grabbed his own and kept him upright. 

“What the fuck? I didn’t need your help,” Katsuki spat immediately. Tired purple eyes peered into his own. The boy didn’t say anything, and Katsuki tugged his hand away. 

“Hitoshi, how long--oh, who’s this?”

Brunette hair a tangled mess of curls around his head, a green-eyed boy smiled at him through the dim lighting of the railcar. There were freckles splattered all over his face and arms, and he had large hands, which tugged on the arm of the black-haired boy who had helped--no, he hadn’t helped, Katsuki reminded himself. The brunette really was quite pretty, thought Katsuki, and then promptly shoved that thought out of his mind. 

“This is Katsuki,” said raccoon boy. 

“What the fuck?” Katsuki repeated. “Fuckin’--how do you know my name?”

“I was watching the ceremony,” he said, like anyone could remember his name out of hundreds of others. His gaze, those dark circles closer now, fixated themselves on Katsuki. “I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. One of the Amity losers.”

Katsuki scowled at him. “And I’m Katsuki Bakugou, thank you very much.”

Hitoshi ran a hand through his mess of hair, giving him a look of approval. Katsuki flipped him off. 

“I’m Izuku Midoriya,” said the brunette, holding out one of his large hands. His fingers reminded him of the way Toru’s looked when she was playing piano, all smooth and graceful and nimble. Remembering himself, Katsuki stared at Izuku’s hand with obvious distaste. Seemingly unbothered, he just laughed and dropped it, following Katsuki to sit against the car. Hitoshi mirrored him, effectively trapping Katsuki between them. 

Izuku and Shinsou conversed quietly for a bit, about Dauntless, about their shitty Amity clothing, about the train. Every once and awhile, the freckled boy would try to engage Katsuki, but he was only met with disinterested grunts. He chewed his gum until it lost its flavor and then stuck it in Hitoshi’s hair, cackling when he swatted at the blonde. Izuku had to break them up so they didn’t fight.

Katsuki looked at Shinsou with newfound respect. Not all Amity were pushovers, after all.

Eventually, the rhythmic clacking of the train tracks lulled him to sleep.

“Katsuki--wait, that sounds weird. Too formal. Kats? Katsu? Ka--kac-Kacchan! Yeah, Kacchan.”

“Izuku, you’re rambling again.”

“Sorry!”

“Katsuki, wake up. We’ll leave you here if you don’t.”

“Hitoshi!”

“I will.”

“No, you _won’t.”_

“Ugh, fine. Wake up, dipshit.”

Katsuki was flicked in the head multiple times, and he shot up. Izuku grinned at him. His fucking head had been on that brown-haired fucker’s motherfucking shoulder. 

“Fuck!” barked Katsuki. 

“Relax, at least we won’t leave you behind now,” Hitoshi pointed out. 

“I told you-”

“I was kidding, Izuku. Chill.”

Izuku’s cheeks ballooned and he puffed air at Hitoshi, green orbs sparkling with mischief. Katsuki tore his eyes away from them.

“Why’d you two assholes wake me up?” Katsuki grouched, rubbing his eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Izuku when he saw him staring. 

“We’re supposed to jump out,” said Hitoshi plainly. Katsuki rotated his neck to look outside--the train was seven stories up, the rooftops it passed gradually becoming clearer to make out as the locomotive slowed down a bit. He looked back at the pair--they both looked apprehensive, though it was clear they didn’t want to show it, so he chuckled and jumped out of the car.

It was jarring and sudden as his feet hit concrete, but he was unharmed, and hadn’t fallen over like some of the other initiates. Hitoshi and Izuku landed next to him, and the black-haired boy stumbled a little. 

“Bakubro! We were worried!” 

Eijirou raced up to him, throwing an arm around Katsuki’s shoulder. The blonde grumbled and removed it. Camie, Denki, and the curly-haired girl followed, all jabbering about how a lot of people had missed the train and were factionless now or some shit. 

“I’m Mina,” said the girl that had carried Denki. “So you’re the Abnegation that likes to curse? These three seem to be pretty fond of you.”

“Whatever,” grouched Katsuki. 

“Oh, do you know Kacchan?” asked Izuku. “He was in our train car.”

Hitoshi waved tiredly to the four idiots, and Izuku introduced them. The insomniac shifted a bit closer to Denki, allowing a rare smile to grace his lips when the blonde bounced up and down excitedly by his shoulder. He was almost an entire head shorter than Hitoshi. 

“The fuck you call me?” Katsuki asked Izuku once Kirishima was busy comforting a Erudite girl who had twisted her ankle due to the landing.

“Kacchan,” replied the brunette. “Katsuki doesn’t suit you.”

“Thanks,” said Katsuki, staring at him. “I’m sure where you come from, everyone thinks getting told their name sucks is a compliment.”

“I didn’t say your name _sucked_ -”

“Listen up! My name is Chisaki, and I’m one of the leaders of your new faction!” called a man from the other side of the roof. He was standing on the very edge, as if he couldn’t fall off if he moved his ankle backwards a centimeter. His hair, reddish brown, was tousled by the wind before he spoke again. “Below us is the entrance to the compound. If you can’t muster the courage to jump off, then consider yourself factionless. Our new initiates have the pleasure of going first.”

“You want us to jump,” said a blonde Erudite boy loudly. “Off of a _roof_?”

“Yes,” replied Chisaki.

“Is there anything at the bottom?” he said, snarkily. 

“What’s your name?” Chisaki asked.

“Neito. Neito Monoma.”

“Well, Neito,” said the Dauntless man, grinning. “Jumping off of roofs is probably the _least_ scary thing you’ll do here. Remember, you signed up for this.” 

The blonde bristled and picked at his cuticles, embarrassed.

Katsuki glanced at Camie, whose lips were quirked up in a small smile. Eijirou was staring, open-mouthed, at Chisaki, and Denki was looking at the ground. Hitoshi and Izuku glanced at each other, but before they could move forward, Katsuki pushed his way through the initiates and towards the Dauntless man. 

He stepped aside, so Katsuki could pass. The way was clear, now--he looked down. The height didn’t scare him so much as the thought of what could be on the bottom did, but he wasn’t meek anymore. He wasn’t Abnegation. Fear was stupid. Fear was unnecessary.

He pushed every thought from his mind, and jumped. 

Wind rushed past Katsuki’s ears, whistling, shouting, screaming, and he clamped his lips together to keep from crying out. The ground grew and grew, becoming larger, threatening to swallow him whole, and then he dropped into a chasm plunged into darkness, the only sound being the _flump_ as his body hit thick, white rope woven together to form some sort of net. 

A net. He was safe. 

Katsuki looked up, squinting to see some semblance of sky above him, and then started to laugh. He’d done it. He’d just jumped off of a fucking _roof,_ for god’s sake. 

Untangling his limbs from the cords, Katsuki’s eyes started to adjust. Hands reached out to him and he grabbed the closest one, albeit reluctantly. He was pulled out of the net and clapped on the back by several older Dauntless. The young man whose hand he’d grabbed peered curiously at him. His gaze reminded Katsuki of the man administering his aptitude test. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, and as the blonde made eye contact with him. He blanched when he realized that he had mismatched eyes--one brown, one blue. On his left side, his hair was red, nearly matching the color of a scar stretching towards his cheek. On the other side, the untainted one, his hair was white. 

“Katsuki,” he replied hoarsley, having finally gotten over the shock of the man’s appearance. 

“A Stiff, the first to jump?” said a woman behind the heterochromatic man. “Unheard of.”

Katsuki frowned at her.

“There’s a reason why he left,” said the man. 

“Make the announcement, Shouto,” the woman responded, flapping a hand. 

“First jumper--” shouted the man called “Shouto”, loudly and clearly across the cavern. “--Katsuki!”

The crowd around him cheered and clapped him on the back again. Another thud, and then Izuku was climbing out of the net behind him, laughing. Everyone chuckled, but followed it with more cheering. 

“Pansy,” said Katsuki proudly, folding his arms as Izuku started his way towards him.

“I won’t let you beat me again,” was all the freckled boy said.

“Right,” Katsuki scoffed. “You can try, _Deku._ ”

“The fuck you call me?”

“Deku. Izuku doesn’t suit you.”

“Bitch.”

“You sure you’re from Amity?”

“I left,” Izuku pointed out. “I don’t belong there.” Katsuki looked away from his emerald eyes, alight with passion, with strength. If he kept watching, they would surely swallow him whole. 

“And Hitoshi?”

“Please,” Izuku laughed. “Have you seen him? He couldn't survive a day of pretending to be cheerful.”

Katsuki chuckled as Shinsou slammed into the net, swatting away the hands that reached out to help him. He yawned and glared at Izuku. 

“Thanks for leaving me alone,” he said dryly.

“I didn’t leave you alone,” said the brunette, rolling his eyes. “You had your boy toy.”

Katsuki couldn’t stop the “pfft” that escaped his lips, and covered his mouth with his hand. A reflex. He realized he was allowed to laugh, here, and let one ring loudly, bouncing off of the walls in an echo. Hitoshi just watched him tiredly. 

One by one, the initiates dropped into the net, with varying levels of terror--Eijirou ran a hand through his hair, taking a shaky breath as Shouto helped him up, Denki whooped and asked if he could go again, and several others merely screamed in terror. Katsuki was glad he went first. The initiates weren’t looking at him with confusion, or superiority, or pity anymore. He had jumped first--he was one of them. No, he was _better_ than them. 

Shouto and the woman, Rumi, led them through a narrow tunnel. There were a few torches lining the walls, but they were spread out. It was mostly pitch black, with the occasional orange interval where Shouto looked back to make sure no one was lagging behind. Soon after, they were bathed in darkness again.

Finally, Rumi paused and looked back at the initiates, hand on her hips. 

“We’ll go our separate ways, now,” she said, grinning. “Dauntless-born initiates are with me. The rest of you will be with Shouto. I assume you all need a tour, so he’ll take care of that.”

She turned, throwing another little smirk over her shoulder, and Camie left Eijirou’s side with a wave. The rest of the Dauntless followed them. 

Katsuki was the only Abnegation among the transfers--the rest were Candor, Amity, and surprisingly, Erudite. There was a boy in blue with very chapped lips and white hair standing in the back, next to Neito. There was also a Erudite girl with her hair in double buns and another boy by her side. He was much taller than all of the other initiates. 

“I usually work in the control room,” Shouto said, breaking the silence, “but for the next few weeks I’ll be your instructor. My name is Shouto.”

He had either forgotten he had a last name, or didn’t care to elaborate. “We’re about to go into the Pit. Follow me. And don’t fall off of the ledges when you’re here--it’ll make me look bad.”

He pushed open a door, revealing the Pit, and the group shuffled out. Katsuki took his time examining his surroundings, so unlike the gray, plain walls of Abnegation dwellings that he almost didn’t know _what_ to think. It was essentially an underground cave, with uneven walls of rock on all sides. Built into them were places for food, clothing, supplies, and anything else one might need in a city of fearless inhabitants. Narrow paths carved of black, shiny stone connected the shops and stands that were higher up. There weren’t any railings on the sides, so one could jump off of them, if they wanted to. 

Katsuki craned his neck upwards--the roof was made of glass panels that stretched into a building above ground. That way, the Dauntless compound looked like a regular part of the city-scape. How many times had he seen the glass skyscraper and not realized what a bustling cosmopolis lay underneath? Blue lanterns hung down from the glass, like will-o-the-wisps, pulsing brighter as the sun went down. 

Were the other factions this loud, or was Abnegation just quiet? There were people _everywhere,_ talking animatedly with friends or chasing each other around the platforms, shopping, laughing--Katsuki’s head was buzzing. 

“If you’ll follow me,” Shouto said once everyone had gotten their bearings. “I’ll show you all the chasm.”

Shouto started walking again. As he moved, Katsuki caught sight of some black ink on his upper arm where his shirt rode up. He adjusted it and it was gone again. 

The group neared the other side of the Pit, which was dark, no blue lights above it. There was a railing made of thick metal bars blocking Shouto from moving any further. He beckoned the initiates forward, and Katsuki put both hands on the railing, examining what was behind it.

A wave crashed into the stone wall the railing was stuck in, white spray reaching up and cooling his face like the feather-light touch of a fingertip. The water rolled and frothed over black rocks, so loud and so fast that Katsuki could almost imagine he was drowning in the rushing noise.

“Woah,” Izuku whispered, voice getting carried away by the _boom_ of the whitewater. 

“CAN WE SWIM?” Denki bellowed over the noise. 

“Not unless you’d like an early death,” Shouto replied. “There are many who have tried to be ‘brave’ and jumped into the chasm. All of them died. There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity.”

Hitoshi perked up at the word ‘death.’ Katsuki smacked him in the back of the head. 

Shouto waved them on, entering a gaping hole in the rock wall. It was brightly lit, illuminating the many Dauntless inside eating merrily. Silverware clattered and glasses clinked as the initiates moved inside. Katsuki watched them stand up, stamp their feet, clap- he was dazed by it all. Next to him, Eijirou broke into a grin.

“C’mon, let’s find an empty seat,” he said, hooking his arm through Katsuki’s.

He sat down at a table near the side of the room, with Denki, Sero, and the curly-haired girl, Mina. In front of him, in the center of the table, there were platters chock full of food Katsuki didn’t recognize--circular buns with some kind of brown meat on the inside.

Mina’s lips formed an o. “That’s a hamburger.”

“I knew that,” Katsuki snapped, and snatched one off of the plate. He stared at it and sniffed. 

“Here, put this on it,” said Sero, handing him a cup of some sort of thick, red sauce. “It’s good.”

Katsuki was tempted to fling the so-called ‘hamburger’ at Hanta’s stupid face, but he didn’t. He would not draw attention and- wait. Why did he need to not draw attention? He wasn’t _Abnegation_ anymore, he-

“Dude! Just eat it already!” Denki whined, and shoved the burger into his mouth, much like he’d done with the gum. Katsuki sputtered and coughed. Eijirou clapped him on the back. 

“Wgatf--” Katsuki gulped, and coughed again. “--the fuck?”

“Was it good?” asked Denki, eyes shining. Katsuki blinked at him. His face was so stupid-looking that he muttered “it was whatever.”

“I told you, you gotta put ketchup on it!” Hanta argued. Eijirou and Mina then initiated a debate about condiments that Katsuki didn’t care to listen to. He placed a hand on his chin and gazed around the room. Just as his eyes swept over the entrance, everyone fell silent. Shouto quietly slipped into the seat next to Mina. 

“Who’s that?” she whispered to him. His eyes fell to his plate and didn’t move. 

A man walked through the opening. He was the source of the quiet, of the stares- his presence seemed to radiate fear and dominance.

The man in question was tall and lanky, with unruly black hair spiked up with gel. He had burn scars all over his body, so thick they looked like tattoos. He did have a couple real tattoos, though, mostly of flames and skulls and other disturbing things. Piercings littered his eyebrows and lips and ears. 

His turquoise eyes latched onto Shouto, then to Katsuki, and his upper lip curled as he strode towards their table and swung one leg over the bench. 

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?” he said to Shouto. The bi-colored head of hair rose and he muttered; “Mina, Denki, Eijirou, Hanta, and Katsuki- this is my brother, Touya. He’s one of the Dauntless leaders.”

“But you’re so young,” Eijirou blurted out. 

“Age doesn’t matter here,” said Touya, lightly, though his eyes flashed. “And you’re a Stiff, aren’t you?” 

Katsuki held eye contact with Touya for a few seconds. “Yes.”

“We’ll see how long you last,” he snorted. Katsuki curled his hand into a fist under the table. He wouldn’t yell, he would deliver a calm, cool reply that held the same amount of weight. No yelling, right now. That would be a bad idea. 

“Is the burnt toast look to compensate for your lack of intelligence, or to intimidate people because you’re insecure?” 

Touya’s nostrils flared, a miniscule gesture, but Katsuki still caught it. He folded his arms smugly and cocked an eyebrow. 

“Anyway,” said Touya through gritted teeth. “Chisaki keeps telling me to bring you to meet with him, Shouto. He required that I find out what you’ve been up to.”

“Nothing of note,” Shouto said, in that monotone voice of his. “Tell him I don’t want it.”

“So he’s offering you a job.”

“I guess so.”

“And you aren’t interested.”

“Haven’t been for two years,” Shouto replied. “And I don’t think I ever will be, Touya. I believe we have some things to talk about. I’ll see you all at training tomorrow.”

He rose from the table, and, grabbing the pierced man’s arm, led him away from their little group. 

“Well, _that_ was traumatizing,” Denki said after a few seconds of silence. 

“Great comeback,” said Eijirou, giving Katsuki a fist bump. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Mina asked, placing both of her elbows on the table. “I thought we only threw insults like that in Erudite.”

“Years of holding it all in.”

The group broke into peals of laughter. Hitoshi plopped down next to Denki, who scooted closer to him. The insomniac didn’t seem to mind, though. 

“Hey ‘Toshi,” said the blonde, grinning at him. Mina gagged.

“You two aren’t going to fuck in the dorms, are you?”

“Maybe,” Denki waggled his eyebrows. Hanta choked on his water.

“Relax, I’m only here because of Izuku. He’s doing something, I don’t know.” Hitoshi said, his shoulder touching Denki’s. “He wanted to come over here.”

“Tell him to go away,” Katsuki said immediately. If he had to look at that nerd’s ~~pretty~~ ugly face all night he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep. 

“No can do, Kacchan,” said Izuku brightly. He was carrying a platter of something big, round, and brown. It was covered in a thick white sauce. “I brought cake.”

 _What’s cake?_ Katsuki wanted to say as the others gave a cheer (minus Hitoshi) and dug in, all sharing the food like it was a free-for-all. He wasn’t going to admit that he didn’t understand what it was, nope, especially not in front of a shitty Deku.

“Why aren’t you having any?” asked Izuku. “Are you allergic? Oh man, now I feel bad. You have to sit here and can’t eat-”

“‘M not allergic,” Katsuki scoffed. “I just…”

“He’s never had any of this stuff before,” Eijirou said, after swallowing a chunk of cake much larger than anyone should’ve been able to swallow. “Abnegation.”

“Would you _stop_ bringing that up?” the blonde hissed. 

“You haven’t lived ‘till you’ve had cake,” Denki said through a mouthful of that white stuff. Oddly enough, he hadn’t even eaten any of the cake, just the covering. “And frosting. Frosting is superior.”

“Ew,” Mina wrinkled her nose. “Eating straight frosting makes me feel like I want to throw up.”

“Same,” Eijirou added. “Sometimes I think you’re not human, but a gremlin.”

“Here,” said Izuku, smiling fondly at the group. He pushed a plate loaded with a perfectly triangular-shaped piece of cake towards Katsuki. “Try it.”

He took a small, tentative bite of the cake. It was sweet, unlike anything he’d ever tasted before- he _liked_ it. Within seconds, he’d polished off the entire plate.   
As Izuku laughed and Denki shouted something about eyeliner, Katsuki thought that a life with the idiots might not be such a bad one after all.

That is, until Touya stood up.

  
  
  



	3. not compassionate

Touya led Katsuki and the others down yet another dark hallway, and then another- until they had taken so many twists and turns that Katsuki didn’t know if the black-haired man was confused, lost, or insane. He wanted to keep his distance from Touya- something just seemed off about him- but he forced himself to remain in the front of the group. Izuku and Eijirou joined him, but he didn’t speak to either of them. In fact, though Touya hadn’t given a direct order, no one was speaking at all. 

At long last, Touya stopped in front of a wooden door and folded his arms.

“For those of you that don’t know me, my name is Touya,” he said. “I’m one of the five Dauntless leaders, and I’ll be overseeing most of your training.”  
Katsuki bit back a curse. He had been hoping it would be Shouto (or anyone other than Touya, for that matter)--it was clear that the man had a grudge against Katsuki already, though if it was because he was from Abnegation or due to his insult, he couldn’t tell. Beside him, Eijirou huffed a disappointed sigh. 

“Ground rules,” announced Touya, twisting one of his cartilage piercings. “Training starts at eight and goes ‘till six every day. There’s a break for lunch at noon,” he added when Denki opened his mouth. “You can do whatever you want after six. There’ll be breaks in between each stage of initiation, too.”

Whatever he wanted? Katsuki frowned. He was never allowed to do ‘whatever he wanted’ in Abnegation. He didn’t even know what he liked. 

“You can only leave the compound if you’re accompanied by a Dauntless,” Touya continued. “Behind this door is where you’ll be sleeping for the next few weeks.

“In the first stage of initiation, we keep the Dauntless-borns and the transfers separate- though you won’t be evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the others, and they’re already ahead of you. So I expect-”

“Why are we ranked?” interrupted Neito.

“Your rankings determine what jobs you are eligible for after initiation,” Touya replied. “There are only a few good positions available.” He smiled wickedly. “Also, only the top ten initiates are made members.”

Katsuki clenched his fists. His odds as the only Abnegation transfer and the least experienced were, simply put,  _ terrible.  _

There was silence, and then Mina cried out; “ _ What?” _

“There are eleven Dauntless-borns, and ten of you. Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test.”  
Even if Katsuki survived, even if he passed each stage, only ten out of twenty-one initiates would become Dauntless. He could feel eyes boring into his back- Izuku? Katsuki didn’t turn his head. 

“What happens,” Denki gulped. “-if we get cut?”

“You leave the compound and become factionless,” Touya said calmly, as if he was explaining how to solve a math equation. 

Katsuki heard Hanta suck in a sharp breath. He couldn’t see the rest of the group- he didn’t want to. He would  _ not  _ be scared. He would  _ not  _ be intimidated. 

He wasn’t Abnegation anymore; he would take what was his.

“How is that fair?” scoffed the Erudite girl with the double buns, Himiko. “If we’d known-”

“If you’re saying that if you’d understood this before the Ceremony, you wouldn’t have picked Dauntless,” Touya snapped. “You might as well walk out now.”

He pushed the door to the dormitory open. 

“You chose us. Now we have to choose you.”

  
  


Katsuki couldn’t sleep.

He could hear Eijirou, on his right, breathing soundly, and Mina’s snores on his left. Quiet whispers on the other side of the room, like rats skittering across floorboards, didn’t let up as the night went on. Denki and Hitoshi, probably. Katsuki sighed into his pillow. 

Sharing a room was new. He didn’t like it. 

Pain stabbed at his chest. He didn’t miss his mother, no; but he- did he miss his father? Miss the quiet, methodical way of Abnegation life?

Were they sitting at the dinner table in silence? Or were they talking like usual? Trying to forget him?

Katsuki wondered what his mother would find when she went through his room.  _ Blood Meridian _ . The pepper he’d dropped behind the headboard of his bed. Drawings he’d made as a child, drawings of adventure and color and everything his life was not. 

He shoved down a sob. No, he would  _ not  _ cry. Not here. He could befriend Eijirou. Eat lunch with Mina. Yell at Denki and Hitoshi when they flirted. Stay away from Izuku and ignore the ache in his chest whenever red eyes met green. Eat cake and get a tattoo and wear orange and never have to worry about being  _ wrong  _ again. 

Would his parents come on Visiting Day? If they did, would they recognize him? It had only been a day and yet Katsuki felt like he was a different person. Did he  _ want  _ them to come? Or would it hurt too much?

Katsuki breathed in. Out. No breathing exercises. In. Out. 

A mattress creaked- Hanta was crying. His sobs weren’t completely muffled by his pillow, instead traveling towards Katsuki’s ears, worming into his brain. He should reach out- he should grab his hand, and tell him it would be all right, and-

Katsuki covered his ears with the palms of his hands.

He was not selfless. 

_ Why couldn’t he just cry silently like the rest of us? _

A wave of disgust.

What would his mother think? His father? They would be disappointed, they would be upset, they would be angry, they would-

Hanta’s crying increased in volume, until he couldn’t take it anymore. Katsuki covered his face with his pillow, reveling in the almost-silence. He could hear his heartbeat now, louder. 

He would miss the sameness. The normalness. 

But there wasn’t any going back. He was _ changed _ , he was  _ selfish _ .

Katsuki fell into a fitful sleep, familiar grey clothes and a book with the cover falling off outlined on his eyelids. 

  
  


“I’m going to teach you how to fire a gun. Then how to win a fight.” Shouto handed ten guns to Hitoshi, who passed them to Izuku. Katsuki took one from the brunette without looking at him. He’d tried to stay away, but Izuku had somehow ended up on his left. “I expect you all to learn fast. You did all jump on and off of a moving train, after all.”

Next to Katsuki, Eijirou rubbed his eyes. Denki yawned. Hanta’s eyes were rimmed with red, something no one mentioned. Perhaps it was for the best. 

“There are three stages of initiation. We’ll rank you based on your performance. Every stage isn’t weighted equally,” Shouto explained. “So it’s possible, though difficult, to improve your rank over time.”

Katsuki stared at his gun. It was black, shiny, sleek- a little scary.  _ This could kill someone.  _

“Preparation gets rid of cowardice. Cowardice is the inability to act when faced with fear,” Shouto said, pacing back and forth across the line of initiates. 

“We will prepare you for a life here. The first stage is primarily physical, the next, mental, and the third, emotional.”

“What does firing guns have to do with bravery?” Neito scoffed. In a fluid motion, Shouto’s gun was pressed against his temple. Neito went stiff, eyes un-glazing from sleep. 

“You’re holding a loaded gun,” Shouto said, softly but authoritatively. “Act like it.”

“To answer your question,” he lowered the gun and then tossed it up in the air, once, watching the orange light from the lamps glance off of it’s metal surface. “You’re much more likely to act bravely when you understand how to defend yourself _.”  _

“Watch me.”

Shouto moved his feet apart, about shoulder width, raised the gun with both hands, and fired. The bang startled Hitoshi out of his sleep-stupor and he jumped. Izuku chuckled. Peering around Eijirou, Katsuki saw a hole in the middle of one of the red targets on the other side. A bull’s-eye. 

Katsuki turned to his own target. Beside him, Eijirou fiddled with the trigger on his gun, as if debating whether to fire it or not. 

A loud  _ BANG!  _ And an ecstatic whoop broke Katsuki’s concentration. Next to him, Izuku high-fived Hitoshi. His bullet had gone through the second circle from the outside of the target- and that was his  _ first shot.  _

Katsuki fought back the growl building in the back of his throat. He would  _ not  _ lose to pretty boy, nope, no way. Taking a deep breath, he latched his hands around the gun and spread his feet.

_ In. Out.  _

His finger found the trigger, and pulled. 

The kickback nearly made Katsuki lose his footing, but he threw an arm out onto the back wall to steady himself. 

“Not bad, for a Stiff,” Shouto told him with a nod, still pacing in front of the initiates. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the bullets at all. Katsuki squinted- his shot was an inch farther inside the target than Izuku’s. He couldn’t help the way his chest swelled. 

Filled with newfound confidence, he lifted the gun and fired once more. That bullet landed in the third circle from the outside. Two more and he’d be in the center of the target. 

He fired again. An inch closer.

Again. One more circle left.

Again. Closer.

Again. Closer…

_ Again.  _

Used to the kickback by now, Katsuki’s lips stretched into a smile as his bullet hit the center of the target. Looking around at the other initiates, he could tell that the others weren’t having too much luck, save for Izuku and the white-haired Erudite boy, Tomura. 

Maybe he did belong here.

Through the corner of his eye (he wouldn’t be caught  _ dead  _ staring at Izuku) he watched the boy re-load his gun, slowly, methodically, each bullet clicking into place. He exhaled before he fired. His bullet hit close to the center.

“Might as well give up now,” Katsuki said quietly, a smirk finding its way onto his face. “I’ve already won.”

Izuku looked away from the target to fix his gaze on Katsuki. The blonde merely pointed to his own target and the hole in the middle.

“Damn,” Izuku muttered. “That fast?”

“Maybe I’m just the best at everything.”

“Yeah, right.”

When Shouto stopped the training for lunch, Katsuki’s fingers ached from clenching the gun. His muscles hurt from being tensed for hours on end. His forehead was sweaty and if he were anyone else he would’ve gone back to the dorms to sleep, but he  _ wasn’t  _ anyone else. He was Katsuki Bakugou and he was the fastest-learning shooter in the entire group of initiates. Wasn’t like he could show weakness now. 

But above all that, he was elated with his success. If he was being completely honest, Katsuki had been slightly apprehensive about how well he would take in the new information Shouto was teaching them. Would his Abnegation upbringing prevent him from being as adept as the other students? He was going in blind, and he didn’t like it. 

Turned out, there was no need to worry. 

As Katsuki took a plate and loaded it with strange, colorful, unfamiliar food, he noticed Mina scoot over on a bench for Hanta. Eijirou waved him over, and his heart clenched. 

He should’ve been there for him. He should’ve comforted Hanta last night, instead of turning a blind eye like a coward. Damn him. Damn his selfishness.

_ No one else helped him,  _ a small part of his mind whispered.  _ You’re no different from the rest of them. You’re Dauntless. _

A part of Katsuki couldn’t believe that. Was it just because of his old faction, that he cared? Or did...was not caring a part of being brave? 

He cursed as he sat down. Thoughts like that were dangerous. Doubt-filled ones would only lead to him falling behind. He needed to focus.

“Helloooo,” Denki waved a hand in front of Katsuki’s face. “Earth to Kacchan.”

Katsuki almost slammed a hand on the table and grabbed the blonde by the throat, but refrained. “Don’t call me that.”

“Aw, why not? Izuku does.”

“That doesn’t mean you should, dipshit. It’s annoying.”

“What’s annoying?” Izuku asked cheerfully, mischievously. Katsuki didn’t miss the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled and looked  _ anywhere  _ but his face. 

“You,” he said after a moment. He hadn’t meant his voice to go all hoarse like it had.

“Ditto.”

“Fuck off.”

Denki looked from Katsuki to Izuku, and back, like he was watching a tennis match. “How are you not dead?”

“He secretly loves me,” Izuku explained. Katsuki knew he was being sarcastic, but that didn’t stop the jab from hitting a little too close to home. The group laughed and Izuku turned his sparkling,  _ stupid  _ green eyes to Katsuki’s red ones and they were glimmering and soft and  _ beautiful  _ and-

Okay, that was it. Katsuki stood up and slammed his tray on the table, the bang echoing throughout the cafeteria, and stormed out.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He’d just totally made a fool out of himself, hadn’t he? They would all know now. Izuku would know. Everyone would know, and they’d make fun of him, and it’d be just like school all over again, and-

Calm down. He needed to calm down.

Katsuki had fled the cafeteria to dart along one of the obsidian paths, and had ended up in the very heart of the compound- there were people on all sides, packing him in like a sardine. He found he didn’t mind, though. It was almost as if he could forget about his own thoughts while surrounded by so many others. 

He wandered through the crowd, eyes scanning for something, he didn’t know what- until he saw a flash of a familiar white scarf and long black hair. 

The man who had administered his aptitude test was here. And he’d told Katsuki to meet him. Meet him about being Divergent, whatever the hell that meant.

Katsuki pushed his way through the throng to follow the man. He turned to duck inside a small tattoo parlor, so Katsuki followed. When he pushed open the door, a bell near the top of it jingled merrily.

“Welco-” The man paused, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before drooping back down to their Hitoshi-like state. “Hello, Katsuki.”

“You gonna tell me why I’m here, or what?” Katsuki had meant for it to come out snappish, but he couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice as he took in the paint-covered walls of the parlor. There were all sorts of designs on them, black paint contrasting with dark red. A giant painting of the Dauntless seal adorned the wall behind a woman with indigo-black spiky hair and red glasses. She was inking a tattoo of a bird onto another woman’s arm.

“Yeah,” said the man after a moment. He strode to the back of the shop and pulled aside a crimson curtain. “Back here.”

Katsuki followed him, moving the fabric aside. It looked like they were in the break room, or something like that. There was a coffee machine on a flimsy folding table in the corner and hair products strewn about and- were those handcuffs on the floor?

“Sit,” said the man, and Katsuki did so. He grabbed a cup of coffee from where it was sitting on top of a cardboard box and took a sip, wrinkling his nose at the taste. “I’m Shota Aizawa.”

Shota downed the entire cup and then sighed. “So, you picked Dauntless. Understandable. Most of the Divergent do.”

“Are you?” Katsuki burst out. He’d been wondering ever since the test. “Are you Divergent too?”  
Shota shook his head. “No. Not me. My husband was.”

_ Was.  _ Katsuki fidgeted. “...Did he…?”

“He was killed,” Shota said stonily. He crumpled the coffee cup with his fist. “Killed for it.”

Katsuki sucked in a sharp breath. So he-  _ he  _ could be killed, too, if someone found out. Shota hadn’t been lying when he told Katsuki to keep his aptitude test a secret.

“But,” he stammered. “Why?” 

Shota rubbed his temple and placed his elbow on the table, propping his chin up with one hand. “I’m not sure. Whatever being Divergent means, the leaders of the factions don’t like it.

“You  _ must  _ keep it a secret. Or just like Hizashi, you’ll be killed.” He placed his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, leaning across the table. “Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good,” Shota nodded and leaned back into his chair, sighing once more. He seemed to do that a lot.

“Katsuki!” 

Shota stood up and left the break room. “Stay here,” he hissed. 

Katsuki could hear voices, whispering- one sounded angrier than the other. Had someone come to collect him for being Divergent? Why here? Why now-

“Katsuki, let’s  _ go, _ ” Shouto said, poking his head into the break room. Red hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it away. “You’re not allowed to leave the cafeteria during lunch. You’re lucky it’s me training you today and not Touya, or else you’d probably be factionless.”

He grabbed Katsuki’s arm and hauled him out of the parlor. “You can get a tattoo tonight.”

_ I wasn’t there to get a tattoo,  _ Katsuki wanted to say, but then that would’ve blown his cover and Shouto would’ve asked him if he was Divergent, and-

This shit was stressful as fuck. Why couldn’t he just be normal? 

Shouto dragged a hand across his forehead, through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but don’t go running off like that again.”

Katsuki just grumbled something incomprehensible. 

Shouto led him back to the training room. Katsuki could hear Neito and Tomura whispering behind their hands. No one made eye contact with him as he took his place in front of a punching bag. 

Shouto demonstrated the proper movements, punches and kicks, as normal. Katsuki glared at anyone who gave him pity stares. Izuku looked like he wanted to apologize, but Shouto didn’t give any of them the chance. They worked for hours. 

“You don’t have much muscle yet,” Shouto told Katsuki after he kicked. Katsuki bristled, but remained silent. “Use your elbows and knees for now, until you build up more.”

Katsuki didn’t mind that type of criticism. Shouto had said it like he  _ knew  _ he would be able to gain more muscle mass, instead of “if” or just accepting that Katsuki wouldn’t be able to at all, because he was from Abnegation. 

By the end of training, Katsuki’s knuckles were red and sliced. The rough fabric of the bag had done a toll on his body- on everyone’s body, really- but he didn’t mind. The pain let him forget about the stupid shit he’d done, the tightness of his muscles let him focus on stretching instead of talking to The Idiots, the soreness in his neck let him look at the ground instead of into bright green eyes that  _ always  _ searched him out, emotions swirling within their depths like an emerald pool.

At dinner, Katsuki sat down at the usual spot. There was silence.

“Sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku said finally. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” he said shortly. It wasn’t fine, but he could act like it was. He wasn’t going to show them that he was weak. “It wasn’t you, you dumb fuck. It just got loud. ‘M not used to it.”

“Oh,” said Izuku, blinking. “Okay.”

“Anyway, Hitoshi, you really don’t remember me?” Eijirou interrupted. “We sat next to each other in English for like...two years.”

“No,” replied Hitoshi, buttering a roll. He yawned. “I usually just slept in English.”

“But you were one of the top of the class! You were even ahead of most of the Erudite!” Mina exclaimed. 

“I have a photographic memory,” Hitoshi said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course it was, to him. He’d remembered Katsuki’s name and face from the ceremony, after all. 

“Of course you do,” Denki grumbled.

“But if you have a photographic memory, why didn’t you remember me?” Eijirou pouted. 

“Maybe you’re just forgettable, Ei,” Mina laughed, patting him on the back.

“That’s rude.”

“Do you guys want to get tattoos?” Izuku asked. “I want to get some, and dye my hair, too.”

“Tattoos, huh?” asked Shouto, sliding into a seat between Hanta and Eijirou. Was Eijirou blushing? Shouto tapped his fingers on the table with a pointed look at Katsuki. “I’ll come too. I want a new one.”

“Ooh, I’m going to dye my hair, too,” said Mina, bouncing up from the table. “You should get a tattoo, Hanta.”

The black-haired boy just shook his head. “No, I don’t think I want one. Not yet, anyway. I’ll come with you, though.”

“Let’s go, then!” said Denki, bouncing up and out of his chair. Katsuki could feel Izuku looking at him. He probably hadn’t believed his lie. Fucker. 

He didn’t mention that he knew the way to the tattoo parlor, even though Denki got lost four times and Mina nearly fell off the side of a ledge. He just followed, silent, as Eijirou talked to Shouto and Denki, Mina, and Shinsou chatted and Izuku kept looking at him like he was  _ concerned,  _ and  _ god,  _ why couldn’t Izuku just leave him alone. Maybe he should just tell Izuku that his eyes were annoying. 

“Hey,” said Shota tiredly to Shouto as their group filed in. “Let me know when you’re ready, Nemuri can start on your designs.”

Katsuki gazed at the patterns painted on the wall. He’d like them, ever since he first walked into the parlor. He could pick a design from there. 

He stopped. Should he really get one? What would his parents think?

No. He wasn’t Abnegation, he was  _ Dauntless,  _ for god’s sake. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. 

“Katsuki? Do you know what you want?”

“...Yeah.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a wattpad where i'm a little more active, if you'd like to chat with me there! https://www.wattpad.com/user/pumpk7m


	4. not strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wow, this took a while to write. hopefully you won't be disappointed.
> 
> most of Izuku's sassiness in this chapter is inspired by a little shit i know.

“This might hurt.”

“I can fucking take it.”

Katsuki sat stone-still as Shota tattooed him. If he watched, he’d surely feel the pain and chicken out, so he opted to look around the parlor and at his friends instead. Denki had brazenly suggested to Hitoshi that they get matching tattoos on their asses, but both of them were nowhere to be seen. Eijirou was chatting quietly to Shouto as he got “Red Riot” inked on his shoulder. Hanta was looking at the array of earrings in the corner.

Izuku was also missing- not that he cared. He’d said he wanted to get his hair dyed and Mina had rushed him off to a hairstylist after getting her bellybutton, nose, and ears pierced. Katsuki felt a particularly painful prick from the needle and flinched. 

“We did it!”

Denki and Hitoshi returned, the former beaming happily while Hitoshi trailed behind him, holding several shopping bags. His hair, instead of its natural black, was now violet. 

“What, got your butt tattooed?” Eijirou asked. 

“No,” Hitoshi said immediately. 

“Nah, we’re doing that later-”

“We are  _ not- _ ”

“Anyway!” Denki hopped into the front desk’s swivel chair and spun around a few times. “We used our credits to buy stuff.”

Every initiate got a certain amount of “credits” used like money each month. The tattoo Katsuki was getting cost six of them. 

“Clothes and shit,” Hitoshi supplied. “Denki used up all of his credits and made me buy him a choker.”

“Like, a collar? Or-”

“This is a terrible conversation,” interjected Hitoshi. “We’re moving on.”

“Okay, done,” Nemuri announced much to Hitoshi’s relief, moving away from Eijirou. “Shouto, what do you want?”

Shouto took Eijirou’s spot in the chair while Eijirou flexed his bicep to show Denki his tattoo. “I’ll have a flame on this shoulder,” he pointed to his left. “And snowflakes on the right.”

An oddly specific choice, but it kind of matched his hair, in a way.

“Katsuki, turn your head this way,” Shota said, using his fingers to move Katsuki’s chin to the side. He complied, watching Hitoshi chuckle at Denki out of the corner of his eye. The bell over the shop door tinkled, and in walked-

Oh holy fuck.

Did he have to dye his hair fucking  _ green? _

Izuku waved cheerfully to Katsuki as Mina bounced in after him, her hair now a bright bubblegum pink. Katsuki slid his gaze to a random pattern on the wall. He would  _ not _ look at Izuku.

If it was even possible, his hair made those dumb fucking eyes stand out even more. The green curls falling over his forehead made Izuku look absolutely ethereal- as if he were a nymph or a fairy. It was almost _too_ perfect, the way his bangs complemented his eyes, looking more forest-colored, dark and full, against the lighter shade of his hair. It was unfair, really, how pretty Izuku was. His freckles, like spots of paint, gave him a childish appearance from far away. But Katsuki knew once he got closer he’d see those damn eyes and think the complete opposite. This was someone ancient, this was someone _beautiful-_

He was over-analyzing this. So Deku got a new hair color, so what. So did Mina. 

Fuck.

He was so screwed.

“What are you getting, Kacchan?”

Katsuki almost jumped a foot. Izuku was  _ right there,  _ bent over to watch Shota tattoo Katsuki’s collarbone. Why now? This was not good. Katsuki was too gay for this. He could feel Izuku’s breaths against his skin, could feel when they puffed out as he chuckled. 

“It suits you.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki licked his lips. 

He’d decided to get the eight planets on his collarbone, lined up in order. Plus Pluto, floating a little off to the side, near his shoulder. 

Izuku hummed in agreement, taking a seat next to him.  _ No,  _ thought Katsuki desperately.  _ Don’t sit there. Go away.  _

His prayers were not answered as Izuku latched his hands behind his neck and looked up at the ceiling, eyes shifting to fix themselves on Katsuki’s face. 

“Any special meaning behind them?”

Katsuki shook his head after a moment. Of course there was special meaning behind them, he wasn’t an idiot. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Izuku, of all people.

“Finished,” murmured Shota. Katsuki adjusted his shirt and stood up. 

“Bakubro! You done?” asked Eijirou. Katsuki nodded. “We were just about to go to the clothing place.”

Shouto stood up a moment later. Katsuki paid for his tattoo and followed Eijirou, who was following Mina and Denki, no doubt about to get lost again.

“I don’t need new clothes,” he protested once he saw the garments on display in the shop window. Hitoshi and Izuku practically had to push him inside. “I said I don’t want-”

“You’re getting them whether you like them or not,” said Denki. “Yours are gigantic and disgusting.”

“What the fuck? You think you can just insult me and-”

“He’s right,” agreed Mina thoughtfully. Hanta rummaged through a rack of black skinny jeans and held up a pair.

“How about these?”

“Hell no. How am I supposed to fight someone if I can’t even move my legs?” Katsuki scoffed. Izuku laughed.

“You don’t have to fight in regular clothes, that’s the whole point,” he told Katsuki. The blonde blinked.

“Huh?” What the fuck were ‘regular clothes?’ Weren’t all clothes regular?

“...Didn’t you have separate clothes for like...playing and stuff as a kid?” Eijirou piped up. Katsuki frowned at him.

“We didn’t ‘play.’”

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Mina whispered to Shouto, who nodded. 

“Katsuki, for someone who yells so loudly, you really don’t know much about life,” Shouto held up a leather jacket, which was snatched up by Denki. Katsuki bristled.

“Not everyone had fucking  _ perfect  _ childhoods-”

“None of us had perfect childhoods,” Hanta muttered. There was silence, then, during which Katsuki felt extremely awkward. 

Izuku cleared his throat. “Kacchan, do you have any favorite colors?”

_ Green,  _ Katsuki wanted to say. But his throat wouldn’t work, so instead he managed; “Orange. And black, I guess.”

Mina darted between a few racks and came back with way too many clothes. “Here, try these all on and tell us what you think.”

Katsuki wrinkled his nose. Were clothes really that important? He’d been taught that they weren’t, but, of course, that was Abnegation, so it didn’t really compare. By the way Denki had described his, clearly they held some sort of weight.

Fine, then. 

Heaving a sigh, he grabbed the pile from Mina and entered a changing stall. She’d picked out a lot of racy shit, fishnets and tiny black shorts that Katsuki tossed aside with a snort. Sure, he was kind of ignorant, but he wasn’t  _ that  _ ignorant. 

The only garment that he remotely liked was a black long-sleeved shirt with an orange ‘x’ across the top. It was tight and hugged his arms and torso, so unlike the baggy, shapeless clothes of Abnegation that Katsuki wondered if his mother would have a fit if she saw him in it. He didn’t like many of the pants, but settled on black jeans and kicked open the stall door with his foot.

“Most of the clothes you picked out were shit, Pinky.”

Denki gave a happy squeal and launched himself towards Katsuki’s shoulders. “That’s so much better!”

Mina nodded appreciatively, clearly disappointed he hadn’t gone for the full-body fishnets. Hanta flashed a thumbs up. 

“You look great, dude,” said Eijirou. Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets. 

_ Was Izuku watching? _

Fuck! Why the hell had that thought wormed its way into his brain? This was terrible. He was like a schoolboy with a crush. No. Nonononononononononono. Okay. It would be fine. He’d just ignore it. 

Shouto hummed. “Denki, can you do his eyeliner?”

“What?” Katsuki wrinkled his nose. “No, no way, I am not wearing-”

Hitoshi had already maneuvered Katsuki’s arms behind his back and he thrashed to no avail. Off to the side, Eijirou giggled. 

“Close your eyes,” Mina trilled. Katsuki grumbled obscenities under his breath but did so anyway. 

The eyeliner was cold when Denki penciled it onto his eyelids. Katsuki wrinkled his nose. For some reason, part of him wanted to sneeze, and his eyes wouldn’t stop twitching. After a moment, Hitoshi let go of his arms. 

“There,” announced Denki proudly, capping the pencil. “See? Look in the mirror.”

Shouto and Eijirou led Katsuki to the full-length mirror in the corner of the store (“I don’t need your help to find reflective glass, motherfuckers”) and stepped back as Katsuki examined his reflection.

His eyes, something he’d always tried to hide, were his most prominent feature, thanks to the eyeliner. They were striking, framed with black that was slightly smudged. The shirt did wonders for his figure- he looked great and badass and  _ powerful. _

“Looks good,” said Izuku over Katsuki’s shoulder. They were alone- the others were preoccupied with chasing Mina down one of the ledges. 

“Mm.”

Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away from his reflection (Izuku’s, actually) and he watched the newly green head of hair tilt to the side as he chuckled. “You’ve been looking for a while.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki swallowed thickly. “We were never allowed to look in the mirror back hom--back in Abnegation.”

“Really?” Izuku’s eyes went wide for a second, then furrowed into a frown. “I have to say, your old faction was pretty weird.”

“So was yours,” Katsuki grunted. “Always cheerful all the time. Didn’t it get tiring?”

“Yeah,” Izuku rolled his eyes. “They put shit in the water when people weren’t showing the ‘correct behavior’.”

Katsuki whirled around. “They  _ drugged  _ you?”

Izuku nodded. Katsuki gave him an incredulous look that lasted a good few seconds before getting self-conscious and turning back to the mirror.

“It’s a shame you weren’t allowed to look at yourself more often,” Izuku murmured-  _ when had he put his chin on Katsuki’s shoulder?  _

“Why’s that?” His heart was beating a mile a minute.

Izuku’s hands were on his biceps, now, and he ran them down Katsuki’s forearms before settling on his shoulders. “You’re beautiful.”

Katsuki froze. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came. Izuku chuckled again and let go of him with a breezy wave. 

Katsuki wanted his touch back, wanted the feel of Izuku’s hands on him-  _ oh god, this was so wrong, why was he like this- _

“Kacchan. It’s late. Are you coming back to the dormitory?”

Holding the door open, Izuku grinned at him. Katsuki mumbled “fuck” and pushed past him. He walked as quickly as he dared on the pathway, head spinning with thoughts and feelings and FUCK, why did Izuku have to do that? Was he trying to start something? Did he want to be pummeled? What the hell-

“Uh, Kacchan?”

“WHAT?” Katsuki barked, refusing to look backwards. He really hoped the flush on his skin didn’t creep towards the back of his neck. 

“Do you know where we are?”

Katsuki paused and looked around. The blue lamps overhead did little to illuminate the darkened corridor the two of them were in- Katsuki’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t seen where he was going. At least he hadn’t fallen off of one of the ledges. 

“...No.”  
Izuku sighed and looked around. “If Touya finds us he’ll probably be upset.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Katsuki muttered, spinning on his heel and stomping off down the hallway. 

“Kacchan! Where are you going?”

“Back,” Katsuki said over his shoulder. Izuku jogged after him and tugged him to a stop. 

“You don’t even know where that leads.”

“Weren’t  _ you  _ paying attention?” Katsuki shot back. “If you’re so smart, tell me the way back.”

“I..wasn’t paying attention,” Izuku admitted. Katsuki snorted and rolled his eyes. “Hey! You can’t judge me for that.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

“Can too-WHAT THE FUDFG?”  
Izuku had his hand over Katsuki’s mouth and was pressing him against the wall, having moved so fast Katsuki hadn’t even had time to retaliate. How was he so strong? Katsuki realized his hands were on Izuku’s chest, firm muscle taut against his fingertips and- NOPE, he needed to get away NOW. He squirmed but Izuku held firm. Only when Katsuki bit down on one of Izuku’s fingers did he let go, but placed his elbows on both sides of Katsuki’s head, bracketing him in.

This was not a good time. Katsuki’s heart was beating so fast he thought blood might start coming out of his ears. What was this? Why had he-

“I heard footsteps,” Izuku said casually, eyes roaming all over Katsuki’s face, which was no doubt bright red. It was too dark for him to tell, though. Probably.

Katsuki opened his mouth and then closed it again. His throat was dry. Why was he so  _ close _ ? 

Curls brushed Katsuki’s forehead. “Denki did a good job with the eyeliner.”

“Fuck you,” was the only thing Katsuki could think to say, so he did. 

“I could, but I don’t think you’d be the one doing most of the f-”

“What are you two doing up?” Mirko’s voice made Katsuki jump and he shoved Izuku away. She peered at them, intrigued, red eyes cutting through the darkness. “Are you lost?”

“No,” said Katsuki, at the same time Izuku said “yes.” He seemed perfectly fine, amused even, and Katsuki looked away when saw his smirk. 

Mirko looked at the both of them with a small, knowing smile.

Katsuki hated her.

“This isn’t really a place you should be caught, mhm, wandering,” she winked at Izuku. Katsuki had the strong urge to punch her in the face. “It leads to the Dauntless leaders’ living quarters. Go back the way you came and make a left at the first fork you see.”

“Thank you!” said Izuku, grabbing Katsuki’s arm and steering him away. They walked down the corridor for a few minutes before Katsuki realized Izuku was still holding him and jerked his arm away.

“Don’t pull shit like that again, Deku,” he muttered. 

Izuku just blinked at him, eyes looking owlish in the darkness. He stopped just before the fork Mirko had mentioned. “Okay, Kacchan.”

It was Katsuki’s turn to blink as Izuku brushed past him.  _ Huh?  _ Wasn’t he supposed to fight back? Or say something  ~~ flirty ~~ witty that made Katsuki want to throw something? No, wait, why did he care? Did he  _ want  _ Izuku to- fuck! What was wrong with him?

This was terrible. Katsuki wiped at his eyes, desperately trying to get the eyeliner off,  _ away, gone,  _ and he squeezed his eyes shut, eyelids burning from the furious scraping of his fingernails. No, no, no, no,  _ no,  _ he couldn’t do this. He needed- he needed air, he needed-

“Kacchan?” 

And then Izuku was there, hands placed on his shoulders, green eyes peering concernedly into Katsuki’s eyeliner smudged, red-rimmed ones, gentle and firm and  _ perfect  _ and Katsuki tried to push him away but was only met with a solid chest, he wasn’t strong enough- give him space, he wanted  _ space- _

“Kacchan. It’s all right.” Izuku’s voice was soothing, but it did little to quell the rising terror in Katsuki’s gut. “Can you breathe for me?”

Katsuki didn’t want to do  _ anything  _ for Izuku, but he nodded after a moment. Izuku smiled, but it looked frayed at the edges, tinged with worry, and Katsuki had made him like that, it was  _ his  _ fault, and he was so  _ weak- _

“Okay. You’re okay. Take a deep breath in, yeah?”

Yeah. He could do that. He could do anything. 

“Good. And out.”

The rush of air past his lips felt like a reprieve. Katsuki did it again, breathing in and out steadily, accompanied by Izuku’s whispered praise. “Good, Kacchan. You’re doing good.”

Was this that thing he’d heard about? A panic attack? Why was he having one now? Stress? Fear?  _ Izuku?  _ He wanted to pin it on the third option, but Katsuki doubted that Izuku would’ve been able to calm him down if it had been completely his fault. Maybe he was weaker than he thought. 

“You’re not weak,” murmured Izuku, like he knew what Katsuki was thinking, and  _ oh crap oh god,  _ he was carrying him now and Katsuki wanted to envelop himself further into izuku warmth but he couldn’t, that would be wrong, and weak, and uncharacteristic, as Denki would say, and he-

“Hey. You can breathe. Just relax, it’s all right.”

Katsuki was laid down on his mattress, Izuku’s fingertips lightly brushing over his forehead as he shut his eyes. This was tiring. He was tired. He needed…he needed…

He needed to sleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning. Maybe he could be stronger in the morning.

He was so weak. So, so weak.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on tumblr! @pumpk7m


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